Harry Potter and the Traitor of Tsemlin
by capricious star
Summary: Harry Potter fic. I wrote this before Book 4. It's strangely similar, you know ... ::shivers:: Yes, well, there is a new, sinister character who is very similar to Lily. Who could it be? What is she up to? Please R/R


**

#  Harry Potter and the Traitor of Tsemlin 

**

**

Part One of a Trilogy (Chapters 1-9)> 

**

* * *

_Dedicated to all of those today who have no tomorrow._

* * *

[A/N: Oh my god! I actually wrote a Harry Potter fic! I've written tons of other fics, but I have no clue about Harry Potter. Plus I do better on monologues. ~audience groans and shouts, "We don't wanna know about your life!"~ This is continued from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, so Harry is in his fourth year. Ah well. Enjoy! =)] 

* * *

Over the sun and under the moon,  
Through thick and thin  
Good and bad  
I'll always be there for you. 

Under the sky and over the clouds  
Whatever you are  
Whatever you do  
I'll always love you. 

* * *

** Chapter One**

What Uncle Vernon Said 

Harry Potter was a very unusual boy in many ways. For one, his whole family was afraid of him. Secondly, he had a lightning scar on his head. Thirdly, he was a wizard. And even for a wizard, he still was strange.

When Harry was one year old, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, whose name people are still afraid to say, came and cursed Harry and his parents. It destroyed his house, killed his parents, but for some reason, failed to kill Harry. Instead, he got away with only his lightning scar. And for some reason, Voldemort lost his powers the instant he failed to kill Harry.

Almost every time at his years at Hogwarts, Harry had met up with Voldemort. In his first year, he had seen the _real_ Voldemort, alive and desperate, sharing another's soul. In his second year, it was through his diary that Voldemort had written when he was 15. In his third year, he hadn't seen Voldemort himself, but one of his devoted followers, Peter Pettigrew. Each time Harry had survived, but only just. Harry admitted he was lucky to even be standing here today.

Harry sighed and stared out of the window. He still wasn't asleep, although it was almost dawn. Ever since he had come home, the Dursleys all had begun to be very careful of him. This was due to Aunt Marge's mishap, he supposed. Even Dudley was nice to him. Sort of.

Hedwig was watching him. Suddenly a tiny owl flew in. It was Ron's owl, present of Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Harry caught the owl, released its burden, and put it in the cage with Hedwig. Hedwig turned her beak up at the sight of him, although he nipped her companionably. Suddenly another owl swooped in. Harry recognized him as the owl that had delivered the Hogwarts letter last year. He dropped the letter and flew away again.

Harry picked up his letter. He clutched his Hogsmeade permission form in the other hand, signed by Sirius. Where was Sirius now, anyway? Then he turned to Ron's package and opened it. Out fell two tickets to the Quidditch World Cup. Harry glanced at it more cautiously; perhaps he was too tired. But, no, it _was_ two tickets to the Quidditch World Cup. But why _two?_ He read the not that followed:

Dear Harry,

How are you? I sent you both of the Quidditch tickets, since Mum's afraid I'll lose them or something like that, and Dad had a hard time getting it from work. I'll come and get you.

Hermione's coming too. I sent her her ticket already. Consider this your birthday gift. Not! I have something else for you, but I'll give it to you at the World Cup.

Hope to see you soon!,  
Ron

Harry glanced at the date on the tickets. The Quidditch World Cup was on his birthday! He quickly stuffed it under the loose floorboard, trying not to wrinkle it, in case Dudley caught sight of it.

Dudley. He was getting increasingly afraid of Harry every moment, since Harry was almost half way through his Hogwarts training. Next year Harry wouldn't be an underage wizard and could perform magic, hopefully.

Tired but happy, Harry went to bed and finally fell asleep.

The next morning, the Dursleys ignored him as usual. He had his usual breakfast and turned to Uncle Vernon, who was reading the newspaper.

He turned suspiciously to Harry and noticed Ron's letter in Harry's pocket. "That isn't another form you want me to sign, is it?"

"No."

"Well, then, what is it? Come on, spit it out." "Um, Ron is going to take me to the Quidditch World Cup. Would you mind?"

Uncle Vernon glared at him. "No, you may not. I forbid you to associate with your - your friends who are - are just like you during the summer! Especially one who is obnoxious enough to come calling you because you gave him our number!"

"But - but Ron already got the tickets!"

"This - this 'Ron' can go invite other friends! You may not associate with him! I put my foot down on it!"

"You're wearing a slipper," said Dudley stupidly, "and it's Mum's, too."

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry again.

"But - but I didn't say anything!"

"Go to your room! And do something about your hair!"

Harry trudged back up to his room. Why, why did he have to bring the letter downstairs? Why? Now Uncle Vernon was going to find a way to keep Harry in, and knowing Uncle Vernon, something cruel, like the summer before he was going to be a second year. Nevertheless, Harry couldn't have explained to him later though, why, all of a sudden, the Weasleys were all of a sudden appearing at dinner or some other occasion to pick him up. Aunt Petunia would go ballistic for sure.

He peeled the floorboard up and heard steps sounding on the stairs. He quickly put the floorboard back, turned, and kneeled, looking out of the window, trying to look as if he'd always been there. Uncle Vernon opened the door.

"Out." He pointed to the hall.

"Wha -" 

"OUT!"

Harry quickly dodged out of the room, avoiding Uncle Vernon's fist. He heard him stamping around the room, knocking on walls, as if looking for something hollow.

Harry gulped. _Something hollow._ If Uncle Vernon took his tickets away, how would he be able to face Mr. Weasley? And Ron? That would mean only Hermione could go . . . Harry didn't want to think about it.

"Ah ha!" came Uncle Vernon's triumphant cry. He barged out of the room, holding the two tickets, and ripped them apart before Harry's eyes. He let them flutter to the floor and grabbed Harry's arm and shoved him into Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's cupboard, in their room.

"You'll stay there, boy, and you'll never go to that World Cup! Never! Never!" Then, cackling like an idiot, he locked the cupboard.

Harry lay down in the dark. _So, back in the cupboard again, eh?_ a voice said in his head.

** Chapter Two**

The Prisoner of Privet Drive

Harry was let out of the cupboard and back in his room, where Uncle Vernon had cemented the windows and the door. The cat flap was still there, though, and that was where he got his food. He was never going back to Hogwarts, because Uncle Vernon had made a hallway through his room and Harry's room, so he could hear his every sound.

Unfortunately, that meant Harry could hear their every sound too.

Until then, Harry had never known that Aunt Petunia snored like a pig and Uncle Vernon made grunting sounds. Now, he did.

He tossed and turned miserably under his blankets for what seemed the hundredth time. He wasn't sure if it was because of the people next door or himself. He guessed it was the people next door. Uncle Vernon was scratching noisily now.

Or was it Uncle Vernon? The scratching continued, and Harry sat up, squinting, into the darkness. He peered at the sound, waiting for his eyes to adjust. A few minutes later, eyes widening in shock, Harry saw a saw end poke through the cemented window. He rubbed his eyes and stared again. The saw end was still there. It made its progress, cutting a neat square and someone pulled the block out quietly. A nose poked through. It was Ron, grinning. Harry motioned for him to be quiet. He then went downstairs, with Ron following. He picked the lock, pulled out the trunk, and with the aid of Ron, pulled it back upstairs as quietly as they could. To Harry, it seemed like all this happened in a split second. He kept pinching himself to make sure it wasn't a dream. He and Ron barely spoke, for fear they would wake up the Dursleys. But Harry had yet another surprise awaiting him . . . faces was staring at him from the window. Fred and George!

They helped them out silently, along with the trunk. Two floating broomsticks waited outside. "Take out your Firebolt," said Ron. 

Balancing on the edge of the window, Harry took out his Firebolt and his invisibility cloak. Fred performed a charm that made his trunk extra light, an Invisibility Charm, and put it on his broom. Harry still thought this was a dream, or he was going delirious. George saw him pinching himself and smiled, "Don't worry, Harry, this isn't a dream."

Only when Harry felt the wind rushing through his hair did he truly believe it wasn't a dream. Soaring there, through the sky, he could only imagine what he'd do next summer, when he wasn't an underage wizard anymore. 

Until now, Harry hadn't paid attention to where they'd been flying, just following Fred and George. Now, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Funny you should ask," said George, "but we're going to The Burrow." The Burrow was Ron's home. "Why? And how did you know I was encaged here?" Ron turned to him. "We wanted to make sure you were all right, because -" He stopped abruptly. From his expression, it looked like he had told Harry too much. 

"Come on, Ron," said Harry.

"Well, have you ever head of Tsemlin?"

"I live with Muggles, remember?"

"Well, it's one of Voldemort's cults."

"And?"

"Well, when Voldemort lost his powers -" he glanced at Harry's scar and continued "- all the members of his cult were arrested and put into Azkaban, right?" Harry nodded. "Well, it turns out that one of them escaped and -" he looked at Harry again "- he's after you. For revenge on his master."

Ron pulled out a clipping and handed it to Harry. It read:

DAILY PROPHET

Today the Ministry of Magic confirmed the fact that Lingeos Mentiny, a member of Tsemlin, You-Know-Who's cult, was never arrested.  
Shocked citizens have sent thousands of letters to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, asking for immediate arrest, but Mentiny has gone into hiding and none of the Dark Arts Defense League can find him. The Ministry have asked the wizarding world to stay calm, promising they will catch Mentiny soon. In addition, they have alerted the Muggle world and set up a hotline. Again, they ask you to stay calm.

Witnesses have confirmed the fact that Mentiny is indeed after Harry Potter, who defeated the Dark Lord, and may be after him for revenge.

Harry's stomach churned. "You came to see if I was alright?"

"Yep. And this time, we've got Mum's permission." He grinned. "See this thing stuck to Fred and George's broom? It's invisibility to Muggles only. But yours is an Invisibility Charm, to your broom and trunk. It's sort of weird, not being able to see you.

"On the good side, Black still hasn't been caught, although he has been sighted in Africa. Dumbledore's having dragons at the entrance." Ron grinned at Harry. "Hagrid's ecstatic about it."

Harry grinned back. "Well, at least the Dursleys are happy about not having me here for a whole year."

Ron didn't grin back. 

**Chapter Three**

The Return to the Burrow

Harry'd never thought he would see The Burrow again. Yet here he was, standing in front of it, staring again at the sign _The Burrow._ It hadn't changed a lot. It still looked like a pig pen with a bunch of rooms added here and there, held up by magic. It looked like . . . home. He envied Ron a lot, for his family and where he lived.

Harry picked up his trunk and carried it to the front door. It opened immediately. Mrs. Weasley came running to the door, looking very worried, still carrying a frying pan. Ginny came running after her. "Harry!" she squealed.

"Well, that's the last time I let you go after Harry alone," commented Mrs. Weasley when they were all sitting down to breakfast. "You nearly drove me insane with worry."

"Aw, Mum," said Fred, "it went all right. The Dursleys never even woke up. And they were snoring like pigs, too."

"You watch your tongue, young man," said Mrs. Weasley fiercely, "you shouldn't insult Muggles like that, even if they are they Dursleys."

"Ah hah," said George, "you admit they're foul."

Mrs. Weasley looked furious with herself.

* * * 

For the next few days of summer vacation, Harry just lounged around, fooling around with Ron, and playing wizard chess. Fred and George challenged them to Exploding Snap, but soon dropped it because Percy could be heard reading his letters from Penelope Clearwater, his girlfriend, out loud. Percy had finished his Hogwarts requirements, and had obtained top grade N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests).

Soon Harry's Hogwarts letter came. "Hey, look, I'm a prefect!" exclaimed Harry. "Yeah, me too," Said Ron. "I just hope I'm not as bad as Percy."

"The password's Bon Apetit," said Harry, "what a creative one that is."

"Uh huh," said Ron. Harry could tell he wasn't really listening.

"I wonder who's our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Ron.

"Dunno," said Harry, "wish it was Lupin." Remus Lupin had been their Dark Arts teacher last year, but had to leave because it was discovered that he was a werewolf.

"Maybe the book list'll give us a clue," said Ron. Harry tore his envelope open and skimmed it:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_  
by Miranda Goshawk

_Intermediate/Advanced Guide to Transfiguration_  
by Emeric Switch  


And then:

_The Complete Book of Defenses Against the Dark Arts_  
by R.L.J.

"Wow," said Ron in a sarcastic tone, "really creative title. Who's R.J.L. anyway? Sounds real boring to me." Harry stuffed the list back into the envelope.

"I really want to quit Divination," said Harry. "Yep," said Ron, "at least this year she might not flinch every time she looks at you."

"Probably," said Harry, but he didn't believe it.

Ron beckoned to Harry. "C'mon," he said, "I wanna tell you something. Let's go to my room."

Instead of bursting into an orange fire, he found himself in a purple dimension.

"Switched Quidditch teams?" asked Harry, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," said Ron, "the Chudley Cannons are retiring. My Quidditch team's the Felsies Firebolts."

"Firebolts? As in the broom?"

"Sort of," said Ron, "they're supposed to be all on Firebolts. Like the Chudley Cannons were all on Cannon Three Thousand Twos."

"Are all the Quidditch teams using the same broom as their names?"

"Not all," Ron shifted uncomfortably, "The Skjfha Streaks aren't. Neither are the Lsuhijha Lights."

"Lsuhija Lights?"

"Well, they're not that good."

"So what'd you want to tell me?"

Ron leaned closer. "Malfoy's dad's going to be the Minister of Magic." 

**Chapter Four**

Draco Alley

Harry stared. "Really?"

Ron nodded. "Came out yesterday. You know. Malfoy's dad probably threatened to curse them all if they didn't overthrow Fudge and vote him instead. Maybe bribed 'em. Considering the fact that they're rolling in wizard gold. Maybe gave 'em a thousand Galleons a piece."

Harry nodded. "So now Draco practically owns the school, eh?"

"Hate to think what they'd call it. How's the Draco Dunderhead School of Wizardry and Witchcraft sound?" Ron said, snickering.

Harry grinned. "Maybe the Malfoy Mistake School."

Ron stopped smiling. "He's probably going to make Snape headmaster. And Snape's probably going to expel us. Make Filch a teacher, more like."

"That'll be a nightmare. And Dumbledore's going to stand by and let this go?"

"I dunno. But a couple of people are rallying a petition against Malfoy; if he can overthrow Fudge, then we can overthrow Malfoy, too!" Ron pounded his table with his fist.

"Yeah," said Harry, "hate to think what Malfoy's going to act like next week. But if Mr. Malfoy's Minister now, how come the school hasn't changed its name yet?"

"Oh, not _today, _" said Ron, snickering again, "he has to bribe and threaten the school governors first. But I bet you by the time we get there, the school name'll already been changed."

Harry put on a grim smile. "I'd hate to go to the Draco Malfoy School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, eh?"

"Yeah. You up to some flying? Tomorrow we're going to Diagon Alley."

"Sure. Take turns on my Firebolt, okay?"

"It's captain of the Felsies Firebolts to you!"

* * * 

The next day, after breakfast, they got ready for Diagon Alley.

"Heard about Lucius Malfoy being the Minister of Magic, Harry?" asked Fred.

"Bet you anything Diagon Alley is now Draco Alley, and it's now the Malfoy School or Witchcraft and Wizardry," said George. They both snickered and turned away."

Percy went first.(My little boy," sobbed Mrs. Weasley, "all grown up and accompanying the rest now.")

"DIAGON ALLEY!" he shouted. The fire leaped and whirled, but Percy didn't disappear.

"There must be something wrong," he said, "but it _is_ Diagon Alley, isn't?"

"Of course that is," said Fred, "haven't you learned anything in seven years? Lemme try it." He strode up to the fire and shouted, "DRACO ALLEY!"

"Wha - ?" said Mr. Weasley, looking shocked.

Fred disappeared.

"DRACO ALLEY!" cried George, and he too disappeared.

Ginny went. Then Ron and Harry.

They all emerged into former-Diagon Alley. Percy appeared moments later, looking dazed.

"Lucius Malfoy renamed this Draco Alley?" he said, confused.

"No, aliens from Mars did it," said George sarcastically. "C'mon, Percy, don't tell me you were Head Boy and prefect because you had no brains! No, wait, actually -"

"- _do_ tell us that, please." finished Fred.

"GEORGE! FRED!" thundered Percy.

Ron and Harry started to snicker uncontrollably and had to stuff their fists in their mouths to hide the noise.

Fred danced around Percy, grabbed some money, and he and George scampered away.

"Come back here!" Percy roared, but they were out of sight.

"Can we have our money now?" asked Ron.

Percy muttered darkly.

"That means yes." He darted forward and stuck his hand in Percy's already-open money bag.

"Come on, Harry!" and they both ran laughing toward Quality Quidditch Supplies, with Percy shaking his fist at them and yelling angrily.

"Mum'll hear about this!"

"Tattletale," Ron muttered under his breath.

Harry grinned.

**Chapter Five**

The Adopted Bodyguard

The next day, when they were getting ready to leave for the Hogwarts Express, Errol came streaming through the window and flopped down, as if dead.

"Pathetic thing," said Ron, stooping down to pick it up.

It was Hermione's letter to both of them.

"Read it, Harry," said Ron, bending down to tie his shoe.

Harry cleared his throat and began:

_ Dear Ron,_

Please, please, please don't use Errol. I know you think Minute won't last this long, but trust me, he's energetic enough.

Did you hear about Lucius Malfoy being Minister of Magic? I hope Draco won't be too nasty. ("TOO NASTY?" cried Ron, "he's rotten enough as he is!" "RON!" cried Mrs. Weasley, looking scandalized.) D'you think he'll rename the school? ("YES," said Ron testily.) He already renamed Diagon Alley Draco Alley. I don't think it's that bad, but -  ("SHE DOESN'T?" cried George, "what is she, in love with Malfoy or something?") --- I really hope he doesn't name it the Malfoy School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Well, Mum is inspecting my teeth, so see you at Platform 9 3/4!

Love,  
Hermione

Ron snorted.

"Well, that was a waste of time," he said. Harry agreed with him privately.

"Well, let's go!" said Percy enthusiastically, while George, Fred, Harry and Ron grimaced. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. 

Mr. Weasley drove in his Ministry-provided cars to the terminal. Percy stood up and solemnly waved goodbye, while Mrs. Weasley bustled around, giving them hugs and kisses and handing out sandwiches, which she explained, exasperated, to Ron that it was _not_ corned beef. Ten seconds after they'd boarded the Hogwarts Express, Hermione came bursting into their compartment.

"Where were you, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"George thinks you love Malfoy." reported Ron.

"Well, for your information, Ron, I DO NOT like Malfoy. And Harry, I was busy packing my second book bag."

"I thought you quit Divination," said Harry.

"I did, but they're offering a new class this year."

"Lemme guess," said Ron, "you signed up for it."

"Yep. And it's wizard art! It'll be so much fun!" Hermione whirled around the compartment and sat down next to them.

"Um, are you sure you're okay, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Positive."

"Didn't you hand in the Time-Turner to Mcgonagall?"

"Er . . . well . . . I told her about signing up for the art class, so she sent it back to me."

Ron stared at Hermione.

They sat there discussing why Lucius Malfoy all of a sudden wanted to be Minister of Magic, what they might've renamed Hogwarts, and the new Draco Alley.

"I bet they renamed Knockturn Alley King Lucius Alley," said Ron, smirking. Hermione laughed.

Harry, however, shivered. He'd been there before, and wouldn't've been here now if Hagrid hadn't rescued him in time.

The plump witch pushed her cart down the hallway. Harry bought a lunch of iced pumpkin juice and Cauldron Cakes. They munched happily through, still talking about Malfoy.

"Ah, Potty and the Weasel. Not to mention Deranged. What're you doing, talking about me? Of course, you've noticed by now the school has been renamed after _me._" came a cool, drawling voice.

Harry spun around, while Ron clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Of course, now, I've figured out you used a Polyjuice Potion on me last year . . . very clever of you, but I'm afraid it won't happen anymore. See, we have Dinge as _your_ bodyguard this year, Crabbe's brother. Have a good time!" Draco Malfoy smirked as he spun around, flanked by his two bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle. Only then did Harry notice a smaller figure remain behind after they'd left the compartment. He looked exactly like Crabbe, even his pudding-bowl hair cut. Harry couldn't see his face, though.

There was a very icy silence.

"And I supposed you're Dinge?" asked Hermione.

He nodded, not taking his gaze off them.

"Maybe we can scare him away," whispered Harry. Ron nodded.

"So, Dinge, have you heard of how they sort kids into Houses?"

"No," he rasped.

"Well, first you have to wrestle this troll, and they test your strength. Then you have to perform several immense incantations and change a desk into a pig. They then decided whether or not they want you of to send you back."

Dinge stared at them. It was hard to tell whether of not he was scared, because he was standing in the shadows.

"Come out of the shadows," said Harry, "we won't hurt you."

"At least not yet," muttered Ron. Harry nudged him.

Slowly, Dinge stepped out of the shadows. Harry heard Hermione draw her breath in sharply.

Dinge looked nothing like Crabbee. The seemingly-muscular arms were now thin, because the shadows had played a trick on their eyes.

"Er, are you sure you're Crabbe's brother?" asked Ron.

"I was adopted," he whispered.

Harry glanced at Hermione.

"Besides, I've already wrestled with Goyle, and he counts as a troll, doesn't he?"

"Well, at least Dinge has some sense," whispered Harry.

"Well . . . do you like Draco, Goyle, and Crabbe?"

"No. I hate them."

"But you're going to spy on us, aren't you?"

"No."

"Then why don't you leave right now?"

It could've been a figment of Harry's imagination, but he thought he saw Dinge's eyes fill with tears.

"A-alright."

He left the compartment.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "I didn't trust him, d'you?"

"Hello?" came a timid voice behind them.

A girl with dark red hair and green eyes was standing there. Ron groaned.

Harry stared at her. She reminded him vaguely of somebody, but who?

"My name is Lily. I'm at Hogwarts too . . . are you Harry Potter?"

Lily . . . she looked remarkably like Harry's mother. He thought he had a childhood picture of her somewhere . . . he'd look for it later.

"What year are you in?" asked Ron.

"Um . . . what about you?"

"We're fourth years."

"I am too . . . what house?"

"Gryffindor."

She eyed them shrewdly, almost hungrily, like a hawk eyeing his prey. Harry didn't trust her, but perhaps she was a relation to his mother, since they looked so much alike.

They stood there, looking at each other. Lily was medium height, a bit taller than Harry, but not as tall as Ron. He wondered why he hadn't noticed her before.

"Um, you haven't answered my question. Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry jerked back to life. "Yes."

Her eyes glinted again. "Great. Can I sit down?" She sat down immediately without waiting for a reply nearest to Hermione, muttering to herself.

Hermione strained to listen, then recoiled in shock.

"My god," she muttered, "my god."

"What?" asked Harry.

"Tell you later. Something bad."

Harry shrugged and turned to Ron. "What about that Quidditch Cup? You never asked."

"Oh, that. It was canceled because of the breakout." He swallowed. "You still got the tickets? You can rip them up now; they're no use anymore."

Harry smiled weakly. "Uncle Vernon helped with that."

But Ron wasn't listening. He was changing into his robes, blocked from Hermione's view by Harry.

**Chapter Six**

Co-Headmaster

Hogwarts looked the same as usual, despite its name change. Harry thought it looked the same, until they reached the dining hall. Snape and Dumbledore now shared the same spot side by side at the head of the table.

"Uh-oh," said Harry, "this spells trouble."

"At least Snape isn't the _head_ headmaster," said Ron.

"Uh-huh," said Harry, not really listening.

Ever since Harry had some to Hogwarts, he'd been Snape's most loathed student. Professor Severus Snape was Potions master and head of the Slytherin house. Now it looked like he was headmaster, too. He had greasy shoulder-length black hair and a crooked long nose. On Harry's first ever week at Hogwarts, he'd taken away two points from Gryffindor for no reason, stating the reason had been Harry.

Harry moaned again. He'd probably be expelled, with Snape headmaster. Harry'd nearly been expelled numerous times already by Snape's accusations.

Harry tried to enjoy his tripe and shepherd's pie, but he'd lost his appetite.

When supper had finished and all the Gryffindors were crowded against the portrait hole, Harry yelled, "The password's Bon Apetit!"

Almost immediately the Fat Lady's portrait swung open, startling a group of first years. Harry noticed Dinge and Lily were there, too.

"Look," he said, nudging Ron.

"What? Oh, Dinge and Lily. Well, at least Dinge can't be as bad as Goyle; Goyle's in Slytherin."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, "the Sorting Hat can't go wrong."

"Is Hagrid still teaching Care for Magical Creatures?" asked Hermione.

"If he is," said Harry, "I hope it's more interesting."

"Yeah," said Ron, "I never want to see a flobberworm _or_ lettuce again. And spiders," he added quickly as Hermione opened her mouth to point out a spider web.

"I wouldn't mind seeing Beaky, though," said Harry. Beaky was Hagrid's hippogriff who'd been condemned, but they'd help escape.

"Hello," cam the same voice they'd heard on the compartment.

"Oh no," muttered Hermione, "get rid of her.". It was Lily.

"Um, we need to talk privately," said Ron, "could you scoot off for a moment?"

She looked slightly put-off, but said, "Sure!" She pivoted on her heel and headed in the opposite direction of the common room, watching them from afar.

Hermione led them to a secluded corner, where she piled her books up (Ron groaned) in front of them so they wouldn't been seen.

"I heard," she said, "when Lily sat down, she muttered, 'Now that I've made myself familiar to that wretched Potter, all I have to do is to take him to Master.' And I'm serious." 

There was a shocked silence. "B-but are you sure you're not kidding?" asked Harry.

"I'm sure," replied Hermione.

"But, I mean, are you _sure?_ She looks an awful lot like my mom; exactly like her childhood picture."

"Oh come on, Hermione," said Ron, "surely you heard wrong. Maybe she meant Potter as in a potter who makes pots, and maybe she calls her father Master. Or maybe she said Mother. Really, Hermione."

Hermione looked furious that they didn't believe her, but she piled her books back into her swollen book bag, and tapped it with her wand. It shrank back to its original size.

Just then, Professor McGonagall came in and announced, "Gryffindors! Bed!"

Their old dormitory's plaque had been changed to "Fourth Years," whereas last year, it had said, "Third Years." Harry and Ron opened the door to find Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom were already there, unpacking. The moment they stepped in, they were confronted with a blast of -

"Hey, Harry! Hiya, Ron!"

"Alright Ron? Alright Harry?"

"Hi Harry and Ron!"

"Did you hear that the Quidditch World Cup was canceled? At least they gave us a refund . . . cost Dad a fortune."

"The West Ham team won the World Cup!"

"Trevor's hiding under my bed and he won't come out!"

The West Ham team was Dean's favorite soccer team. Like Harry, he'd come from a world of Muggles and knew about soccer. Trevor was Neville's toad.

Harry slowly unpacked his items and took out his broomstick. "I wish Quidditch would start soon," he complained.

"Is Malfoy still Seeker?" asked Ron.

"Probably . . . we'll see in a few days," said Harry, "I want to see if his dad bribed the whole team again with broomsticks."

"Uh-huh . . . probably bought 'em all Firebolts."

"You'll beat 'em, Harry!"

"Thanks, Neville. Quidditch practice is tomorrow, I think, so I'd better rest up."

"Alright."

As Harry pulled the curtains shut and pulled up his sheets, Harry thought, _How good it is to be back at Hogwarts._ **[A/N: Yes, I _know_ it's now called Malfoy, but he thinks of it as Hogwarts. Okay? Okay.]**

**Chapter Eight**

Quidditch Captain

The next morning, Harry woke up unusually early. He glanced at his alarm clock; it was 3:36 AM. Harry drew back one curtain and stared out the window for a long time, thinking. When the sun finally awoke from its long nap, he got dressed and went down for breakfast.

In the common room, he bumped into Professor McGonagall. "Hello, Harry," she said sternly, looking at him underneath her silver-rimmed spectacles. "And what are you doing so early in the morning?"

Ignoring her question, Harry asked, "Please, Professor, who's our new Quidditch captain? Also, we need a Keeper."

"Yes, I am quite aware of that, Potter, but Wood has kindly agreed to remain captain, although he is no longer at Hogwarts. He is presently waiting for his job interview, I believe. Ron's brother, Percy, has already taken it, I believe?"

"Yes, Professor. But who's the Slytherin captain? Surely Flint's got a job already?"

The smile that had appeared now faded a little. "We are presently looking for one, Potter." At that, she turned and went to wake up the boys' dormitories.

Harry headed for the portrait hole, yawning. Suddenly it swung open. Out popped Oliver Wood.

"Hey, Harry! Up already? Great! Just grab a biscuit or two and head down to the field with your broom. I already booked the field for today! I've got to try out a new strategy!" he bustled off to wake up the others. He hadn't changed a bit, decided Harry.

He was really hungry, and looking longingly at the stack of golden pancakes, took two biscuits and headed with his broomstick under his arm to the Quidditch field. A few minutes later, the rest of the team came trudging down sleepily after Harry, accompanied by a bright-eyed Wood.

"Alright, team," he said, rubbing his hands, "this will be the final year I'll be your captain. After that, you'll need a new Keeper and captain. Mind you, keep your ears sharp, it isn't _that_ early. ("Wow, Oliver doesn't think it's early?" wondered George Weasley.) I have a new strategy-" the whole team groaned "-and now I'll explain it to you." He took out his animated Quidditch field board and tapped it with his wand. All of a sudden, the whole team appeared, on their broomsticks, in full detail. Harry could see his hair sticking up.

"This year," rumbled Wood, "our name'll be engraved on the Quidditch Cup for sure! What with all our practicing and work, they don't even need to bother having matches! That cup is ours for the taking!" he pointed at the board and the figures started to move, zooming around. He then went into a very detailed long repetitive speech, which resulted in a chorus of snoring. Oliver didn't take notice of it. Soon Harry felt himself dozing off, just as Oliver pounded his fist, saying, "We _will_ be the best team Hogwarts has ever seen! We'll wipe that grin off the Slytherins' faces! We will shock Dumbledore! We will be so great roses will be landing at our toes! We will -"

"Er, roses at our toes?" asked Fred Weasley, who had now been jerked awake by Wood's excitement.

"Never mind that! We will -"

"Um, we get the point," said Katie Bell, a Chaser.

"Do you? Oh, good, but the rest of the team hasn't." he pointed at the Weasley twins, who had fallen asleep again. "WE WILL CONQUER! WE WILL DESTROY! WE WILL BAFFLE! WE WILL AMAZE! WE WILL -"

"Oliver, can we just get going?"

"Oh. Right." He led them down to the field and started to throw the balls out into the crisp morning air. Soon Harry saw Ron and Hermione out in the stands. He hovered closer to them, holding the Snitch. 

"We were jerked awake by Wood's shouts," explained Hermione. "By the way, hasn't he finished Hogwarts? Last year he was in his seventh year, right?"

"Yeah, but he's staying for another year, like Flint did last year," said Harry, "but Flint isn't captain this year, though. Wonder who it is."

Ron started to say something, but Harry was called back by Wood. He flew back into the air and let go of the Snitch.

After lunch, it became clearer and clearer what Ron had meant to say. The new Slytherin Quidditch captain was: _Draco Malfoy._

"But . . . I thought you had to be at least in the fifth year to be captain," said Hermione, dazed, "I know you joined the team a year early, but that's because you've got talent. Malfoy certainly doesn't."

"Don't you get it, Hermione?" Ron said, exasperated. "Haven't you seen what he's given them all? They'd be _begging_ for him to be their captain."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table. There were seven superb crystal-clear brooms, dappled rainbow-colored in the sunlight.

"What're those made out of?" asked Harry. "Diamonds?"

"Yes," said Ron, "those are the only existing diamond brooms in the entire wizarding world, _Encrystalerias._ And now Malfoy's bought it for them all."

"Malfoy's always trying to be a step ahead of me by buying brooms, or at least bribing them," concluded Harry, "but I still haven't lost a match, even when he had a better broom. I lost once to Hufflepuff, though."

"That was because of the dementors," said Hermione. "That didn't count." 

"Really?" asked Harry, "D'you really think?"

"Yeah," agreed Hermione and Ron, "you'll knock his socks off."

"Malfoy doesn't wear socks," snickered Ron, "you can tell by the scent that keeps escaping his sneakers. _Polished_ sneakers."

"Well, they don't have Dobby to serve them anymore." Harry said. Dobby was the Malfoys' old house-elf that Harry had freed a while ago.

Just then, Malfoy walked over. "Hello, Potter," he said, smirking, "Have you seen the brooms my grandfather gave me? Of course, you can't ever get one, being an orphan and all.

"What's the matter, Weasley? Can't _bear_ to see all those on our table? I bet you can't even afford the name plate . . . let alone a single letter." Crabbe and Goyle guffawed next to him.

"Well," Draco finished, "I'd better get going. There's a _crowd_ of people wanting me over there. By the way, Potter, are you still giving out signed photos?"

Harry couldn't answer; He and Hermione were busy pulling back Ron by the tail of his robes.

"Let me at him," growled Ron, "I don't care if I get expelled. He's insulted my family too many times. I -"

But exactly what Ron wanted to say never came out. The same timid "hello" they'd heard on the train sounded behind them. Ron stopped trying to get to Malfoy and spun around.

"All right, guys?" she squeaked again.

"Yeeeess," said Hermione, drawing out her "yes." "And you?"

"I'm fine," she squealed again, glancing about nervously. "Er . . . could you help me with our Charms homework? I don't get how to make Shimmering Sliver Slime . . . could you help me? Hermione, you're bound to know, you're at the top of the class."

Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously, her brown hair a bit more bushier than usual.

"Please?"

"Oh all right," she grumbled, "but don't expect to have me help you later." She flounced off to another table, nearer to the fireplace.

"That's okay," replied Lily, starting after her, "I can always ask Harry."

"There's something odd about her, can't you feel it?" said Ron, staring at her, "she doesn't feel like . . . a human."

"Oh, come off it Ron," said Harry, "there can't be anything wrong, can there? After all, she _does_ look remarkably like my mother."

**Chapter Nine**

Professor Trelawney's Second Prediction

Divination was just as boring as usual. This year, Professor Trelawney wasted no time in telling Harry she wouldn't be surprised if he died next day.

"Mysterious forces are awaiting your downfall," she said, "watching you this very moment."

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown squealed in nervousness and looked around as if the "mysterious force" was watching them this instance.

"It's okay," said Ron, "remember last year? She kept saying the Grim was after you . . . but it was okay, right?"

"Yeah . . . right." Harry replied, half-wishing Hermione was still taking this class with them.

For this term, they were going to read minds. Harry thought this sounded mildly exciting, but he probably couldn't do it anyway. He remembered last year's disaster with the crystal balls at exams . . . he'd just made up some stuff about Beaky.

"Now," wheezed Professor Trelawney, "focus your mind to nothing but a single thought. _Know what one knows._"

"What?!" exclaimed Ron next to Harry. "Know what one knows? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Shhh!" shushed Professor Trelawney, "Know what one knows, know what one knows, know what one knows," she chanted.

Harry felt himself focus on that one thought and, strangely, held on to it.

"Now, close your eyes," Professor Trelawney instructed, "and turn to your partner. Focus on them by chanting, "Know what _____ knows, know what _____ knows mentally."

Harry and Ron turned to each other, Ron laughing his head off silently. "Know what Ron knows," he muttered softly to himself, eyes closed. Suddenly his head snapped up. Ron thought the whole thing was ridiculous, thought Harry. Harry hadn't gotten the thought by words, just by emotions.

But of course, he thought, glancing over at Ron, now clutching his stomach, he could've gotten that just by looking at him.

"Now is everyone done?" asked Professor Trelawney, "I want all of those who have Read to raise their hands.

Harry raised his hand, shaking nervously. Then he noticed the whole class except for Ron had.

"Really, Weasley, only you?" she inquired. "Come, come, Read me. See if you can get the tiniest inkling of what I am now thinking."

Ron wasn't laughing anymore.

"You . . . you're thinking I'm a complete idiot," said Ron, eyes wide open, "and I won't be able to go on."

"Precisely!" Professor Trelawney cried, with Parvati and Lavender clapping vigorously by her side. "Class has now ended," she said, "you may all go on to your next class."

"Well, that was weird," said Ron as he rejoined Harry, "I -"

Someone had bumped into them. Harry spun around to see who it was. _Lily._

"Oh, hello, Harry, Ron," she said, smiling, "I didn't know you took Divination too. I thought you took Muggle Studies along with Hermione."

"We don't," said Ron abruptly. To Harry he whispered, "Read her mind." Harry nodded and closed his eyes while Ron kept on talking to distract her. _Master will be so happy,_ she was thinking, _there must be a class he takes all by himself? Then I may take him._ Harry was in mild shock, but he nudged Ron and whispered, "Your turn" and chatted on and on as if he hadn't noticed a thing.

* * *

[A/N: The second part should be coming out in a month, what with all the homework and projects and other fics I have to write. E-mail me at [ Anigirl@columnist.com ][1] or IM me at AniFan121788! =)]

###  Anigirl 

"No matter how abandoned  
And alone you feel, somehow  
Somewhere, someone knows  
And cares." 

   [1]: mailto:Anigirl@columnist.com



End file.
